Summer at Fraser’s Mill

An Idea

W hen Grace’s alarm went off at 5:30 in the pitch dark, it took all her willpower to get out of bed. Why did she do things like this? She could go back to bed and work out at the fitness center later.

No, she was tired of being indoors. An early-morning run was just what she needed. The sun would be up in no time. Grace said morning prayers, put on her running clothes, and headed out.

She shivered in her light long-sleeved shirt and running shorts over leggings. Mornings started out cold in this desert climate. But the sun was rising in a blaze of coral and gold, and it would be warm soon enough. Grace did some warm-up stretches and started for the exit of her apartment complex.

Now that she was out, she was glad she had gotten up early. The L.A. air, as usual, smelled like exhaust, but the sunrise—as much as she could see of it around the buildings—was glorious. She hadn’t seen a sunrise in a while, especially since the sun had started rising so early with the approach of summer.

Right now in Michigan, with a three hour time difference, Grace’s parents must be up and about. Mom was probably in the store, unless she had another employee open today. How would Dad manage at home by himself with a broken foot? Would Mom be able to check on him regularly?

It was too bad Grace’s parents didn’t have anybody to take over Dad’s place, at least until he could get around again. Grace knew how it was being short-staffed in the store. Poor Mom would get worn out.

If only Grace were there, and able to help. She had plenty of experience, and she would be able to give her parents a break. But as Dad had said, she had a job to do here in California. Her parents would manage somehow—they always did.

Grace came to a stoplight. Jogging in place, she waited for the “walk” signal. It was much nicer running outside than in the stuffy exercise room at the apartment complex, even though she had to be careful about cross streets and driveways and other pedestrians. This was just the thing to clear her head so she could focus on the things she needed to do today.

She had another full day of reviews with her fifth and sixth graders. After that, she really should sit down at home and work through her goals, to-do lists, and schedules. She had to do so many things, transitioning from the school year into the summer, and if she didn’t make a good plan and stick to it, something important would surely fall by the wayside.

§

Afternoon review classes went well for Grace’s sixth graders. Grace was proud of how these kids had taken in this semester’s material. The discussion classes seemed to have helped, because the kids kept referencing conversations they’d had about different book characters over the last few weeks. Even Nathan Gorecki, who hadn’t talked yet this week, contributed to the review.

Still, compared to the more experienced teachers, Grace felt inadequate. When she overheard conversations in the break room or the hallway, she was often amazed by the other teachers’ sophisticated lesson plans and the accomplishments of their students. Hopefully the National Board certification process would give Grace some of the knowledge and experience she needed to be a more effective teacher.

In her bedroom after school, Grace pulled a box from under her bed to find a notebook. She needed to brainstorm goals and to-do lists in order to sort out finishing the school year and to start her summer out strong. It was easier doing that on paper than on her computer.

Partially-used notebooks, saved birthday cards, stationery, and printed-out teacher resources filled the box. Grace flipped open one of the gently used notebooks. The first page had a heading, written large in blue marker: “Grace’s 5-Year Plan.”

This notebook was old. Grace always wrote plans and lists and then forgot about them, but she remembered writing that plan, home from college one summer, sitting on her bunk bed in Fraser’s Mill. That must have been about five years ago, actually. It didn’t feel that long ago.

Under the heading sat a numbered list. It began: 1. Graduate from English program. She’d done that, three years ago now.

2. Find a good school that pays well. She’d done that too. St. Francis de Sales Academy in Los Angeles was just the kind of school she had always wanted to find. As an English teacher, she could introduce the kids to all the great books she’d loved growing up. How much better could it get?

3. Find a guy who’s actually compatible. She was still working on that one. Maybe Lucas would turn out to be that guy.

4. Start getting higher education so you can teach more effectively and help other teachers. Younger Grace hadn’t known how much time and energy a teaching job would take. Grace hadn’t been ready for higher education until now. But now she was ready.

5. Move someplace where you can accomplish bigger things with your career than in Fraser’s Mill. That had been a longtime wish before Grace had moved to Los Angeles. Out here in the big city, the opportunities for growth in Grace’s career were almost limitless. She still didn’t feel used to the city—it seemed overwhelming and impersonal—but maybe that would change with time.

She hadn’t done too badly with her old five-year plan. She’d fallen a little behind on some items, but her goals had stayed the same. Now she needed a clear plan to move forward toward those goals, more detailed this time. Five-year plans, she decided, were silly. You didn’t know how long these things would take. The important thing was to know your goals and find concrete ways to achieve them.

Grace found a pen, flipped to a clean notebook page, and wrote a large heading: “Grace’s Goals.”

Her finished page looked like this:

1. Finish the school year well. Prepare reviews and quizzes carefully for the next two days.

2. Work on National Board prep at least one hour every evening.

3. Be more consistent with daily exercise.

4. Make a Shipt shopping schedule for the summer to make enough money but not get overwhelmed.

The first summer she’d done Shipt, she hadn’t figured out her schedule beforehand, and she hadn’t made as much money as she’d wanted. The second summer she’d made a rigid schedule and burned herself out by not being flexible enough. There ought to be a happy medium.

Back in Fraser’s Mill, it had seemed easier to juggle work and life. She hadn’t been so rushed all the time. What was it that was so different now? Was she just busier now she wasn’t living with her parents?

Wait a minute. All the goals she had written down, besides finishing the school year, were things she didn’t have to be in California to do. She was planning to work in a grocery store. Back home, her parents needed help in the grocery store. Why not forget the Shipt shopping and help her parents in Michigan instead? Was that a crazy idea?

She had sworn to herself when she graduated college that she was done with the grocery store and the small town. Fraser’s Mill was no place for someone with big dreams. The people Grace had known growing up who had stayed in Fraser’s Mill were all working on farms or in retail or at the sawmill. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, but Grace didn’t find it fulfilling. She needed to find something big and important to do, and there wasn’t anything big and important for her in Fraser’s Mill.

Even if Los Angeles still felt overwhelming and impersonal, getting ready for National Board certification gave her a challenge that interested her. She could make a difference in the world by instilling a love of good books and critical thinking in the next generation of schoolchildren. She wouldn’t give that up for anything. But visiting Fraser’s Mill for a few weeks this summer wouldn’t harm her teaching work. And her parents could use the help.

Grace put away her notebook, preheated the oven to warm leftover pizza, and called her parents.

“Dad, I’ve got an idea,” she exclaimed as soon as Dad answered the phone. “You remember how I said maybe I could do remote work for the store? Well, I’ve thought about something else. You know how I was going to work for Shipt over the summer? Well, what if—instead of doing that—I came out to Fraser’s Mill and worked in the store for six weeks or so, until your cast came off?”

Dad’s silence stretched for so long, she wondered if the phone had disconnected. “Gracie,” he said at last, his voice serious, “you’re a good daughter. But I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve got all kinds of things to do in California. You don’t need to spend half your summer helping out here. You work hard the whole school year, and you oughtta get to relax a little.”

“I know you wouldn’t ask me to come, Dad. But I hate the thought of you and Mom trying to run the store when you have a broken foot.”

“I know you care about us,” he said. “But I also know my own daughter. I know how you feel about being stuck in a little town in the middle of nowhere. As much as your mother and I would love to see you, I don’t think it would be a good idea. You’re trying to get ready for that National Board certification. You need to concentrate on that. I know your mother would say the same.”

“I was thinking I could do National Board stuff in the evenings,” Grace said. “I don’t know—I thought it might work! Do you really think it’s such a crazy idea, Dad?”

He chuckled. “I won’t call it crazy, but I don’t advise it either,” he said. “I’m not gonna say no, you can’t visit us. And I’ll mention the idea to your mom. But she’ll probably be more against it than I am. She thinks you need to settle in where you are—maybe make some friends. And isn’t there some guy out there you were going out with?”

“Lucas,” Grace said. “I went out with him on Saturday. I don’t know him that well, but I think we could have quite a bit in common.”

“See what I mean?” Dad said. “If you come back to Fraser’s Mill, how are you gonna get to know this guy better? And how are you gonna get ready for next school year? I think you’d better stay there.”

Grace sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I see what you’re saying, Dad. I don’t know. Maybe it is a wild idea. But I still think I could help you and Mom a lot if I came.”

“I’ll tell you what, Gracie,” Dad said. “Why don’t you take some time and think about what I said. Pray about it too. And don’t jump into anything you’ll regret later. Your mom and I will be all right, no matter what you end up doing.”

“All right, Dad,” Grace said. “Thanks.”